Good Weather
by abbytherat
Summary: Heihachi died.  Simple as that... Yet he has wandered back to Kanna months after the battle.  This strange omen will reunite the 7 and spark a battle subtler and more deadly than any fought thus far.  Good Weather is what happens between storms.
1. The Ghost

**I don't own Samurai 7 or the characters.**

**Incase you didn't notice, some chapters have disappeared and the title and summary have changed. I had this really crazy idea for a crossover fic, but it was just to weird and I know when to admit that something doesn't work. A really good idea came out of it though, so I'm going to do some major editing of Chapter 2 and 3 and continue the story.  
**

**P.S. It's no longer a crossover.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

It was a long day, but a good one. The farmers, spurred by their full bellies and new hope, spent every moment of daylight planting the rice that was finally theirs. At the end of it they found the two remaining Samurai gone. It was a strange feeling to know that the two men who risked everything for this day had drifted away like the wind.

For Kirara, their departure was a relief. She would be grateful for their sacrifice to her dying breath, but spending the winter months so close to Kambei had been hard. She even saw them leaving and said nothing for fear the villagers would bother them to stay longer. She just expressed her gratitude within her own silent heart and continued singing for the farmers.

She felt guilt though, guilt that she should be so resentful towards her savior. She felt that, as long as her heart bore this weight, the Samurai could not be properly honored.

It was for this reason that she made her way towards the familiar path to the four graves on the cliff.

"Priestess, be careful," one of the elderly women called when she walked by. "The men say they spotted the Ghost again today."

Kirara's hand sneaked to her other wrist, looking for a pendant that wasn't there. "Yes," she said seriously, "and if the spirit of one of our fallen warriors is so restless, than we must pray for him to find peace." With that she continued her trek.

For the first time in anyone's memory, Kanna Village was prosperous and spirited enough that the men could spare time to hunt. Those hunters came back from the hills four days before saying they saw one of the four fallen Samurai wandering in the woods. No one thought anything of it. It was just the season that brought it home to everyone what the Samurai died for. Now the villagers were seeing this Ghost everywhere.

As she walked towards the graves she noticed that someone was standing in front of one of them. They couldn't be much taller than her and she could see messy, shoulder length hair. The wash of crimson light from the sunset prevented her from telling the color, or making anything else out. What she could see was that this person had their hand out and was holding the white doll attached to Heihachi's sword.

She instantly felt her anger rise up. Touching the sword of the Great Samurai!? A more blatant dishonor to them and to her Village she couldn't imagine.

"Hey you!" she yelled as she stormed towards them.

As the person let go of the doll and turned towards her, the sun sank a little lower, finally hiding it's light. She stopped in her tracks.

The person's orange hair fluttered freely in the breeze, no longer restricted by his pilot's cap and goggles. Other than that he looked exactly as he had the last time she saw him alive… the same beige jacket, the same brown vest with so many pockets, the leather boots and gloves…

"Hei… Heihachi-sama?" She wanted to move towards him or run away, but her body wouldn't do either.

He regarded her through eyes so squinted they looked shut. His eyebrows raised and his mouth just slightly open… it was that expression of innocent confusion he often wore in awkward situations. Finally, he broke into that smile of his.

"Hey," he said, giving a courteous bow. When he straightened his smile faltered. Kirara was still frozen in shock.

He turned his now slightly grim looking face towards Kanna and, walking past his own grave, sat at the edge of the cliff.

Heihachi heaved a great sigh. Sitting like that, staring over what he made possible with his own life… here was something out of the old Samurai legends. Those stories always made Kirara cry.

She finally found her legs working again and slowly approached Heihachi, fearful that at any moment he would vanish. The ghost the villagers saw… here he was.

Why though? Was it to complete something unfinished, or to say goodbye? Perhaps it was because they couldn't give him a proper burial…

"Kanna Village looks nice," said Heihachi when she was almost behind him, "I'm glad to see everyone so happy." His voice didn't sound that glad though. It was soft… distant.

Kirara looked at Heihachi's sword, his grave marker, and then at his back. She swallowed her fear. She trusted this man when he was alive, and there was no reason to fear him now. "Great Samurai, why are you here?" she asked. She forced herself to sound calm and gentle.

"I wanted to see how things turned out." Just his hair moved, flying about his head in the spring breeze.

She sat down next to him and gazed at the beautiful rice fields washed with the fresh spring water and the last lazy sunlight peering above the horizon. "The Village is prospering and we all look forward to the future now. We finally have the hope that you… fought for, so your deeds were not in vein."

He smiled at that, but it was a small smile. "That's good to hear," he said.

Kirara stared at her hands as she twisted them in her lap. She didn't know how to say what she knew she had to. "You've completed your task… I asked you to help protect the rice of Kanna Village and you did so much more, so… so you should move on now…"

"You want me to leave…" His voice was still too distant. It sounded broken.

She felt the guilt in her heart, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. "It's not about what anyone wants," she said. "If only you could stay here in the Village, but you don't belong here anymore. You're –"

"Heihachi-sama!!!" She was cut off by the shrill cry and turned to find Rikichi and several other farmers standing in front of the graves.

"Oh, Rikichi," said Heihachi, also turning. "You look good, at least five years younger. Although it could be the surprise on your face." He chuckled to himself. That broken sound was still there though.

The poor farmer was stumbling backwards as he kept repeating, "But you're… but you're… but you're…"

"Dead? …Nah." Heihachi ignored all their startled staring as he got slowly to his feet.

Kirara got over her shock quickly when she noticed how stiff his movements were and how he groaned as he straightened up. Most of the effort was going towards his right side. "Heihachi-sama, you're -"

"Alive and well," he cut her off. "I'm sorry you thought otherwise." He was staring at his sword, his face betraying complicated emotions. Bowing he said, "Please forgive me."

There was only another moment of silence before Rikichi yelled, "Are you crazy!?! This is great!" His face beamed with barely suppressed tears as he walked over to Heihachi and wrapped his arm around the grinning Samurai.

The news spread through the Village like waves, each one becoming stronger than the last. At first it was just whisperings that the former Water-Priestess was spotted with the Ghost. Soon people were running through the Village, yelling that one of the Great Samurai had returned from the dead.

Komachi got upset when people started talking about the Ghost Samurai. She didn't want to face the memories of her lost friend. She told herself she just wanted to forget about him.

For that reason, she sat stubbornly in the Water Shrine and dismissed the excitement as silly rumors.

Then Okara showed up with the news that the Ghost wasn't really a ghost at all, that one of the Samurai really had returned. Komachi couldn't help but feel a small twinge of hope. Did he keep his promise after all?

"Which Samurai is it?" she asked carefully.

"Don't know." Okara shrugged and explained, "Everyone's crowding around, so I can't get a good look."

"Could it be Kiku?" Komachi kept her face serious, which was unusual for the lively girl.

Okara knew to be careful around this subject. She had tried to talk to Komachi more than once since the battle, but so far only succeeded in enticing fits of yelling and crying. The next day, Komachi would act like nothing happened.

"Kikuchiyo exploded," Okara answered slowly. "There was nothing left."

Strangely enough, Komachi smiled. "Exactly," she said. "The only pieces we found were his feet. Maybe he didn't explode! What if he just got knocked really far away, and it took him all this time to get back!" She looked overjoyed, like this explanation was true. "Come on! We've gotta go meet him!" She grabbed the family scroll off its honored shelf, as well as the hand of a worried looking Okara, and left the Shrine.

Unfortunately for her, everyone had the same idea. By the time she reached the foothills, there was a tight crowd consisting of the entire Village. It was dark already, but a number of men had the sense to carry torches. Komachi should have easily spotted Kikuchiyo over the other heads. This just didn't occur to her.

She stomped her feet, demanding to be let through. When that didn't work, she let go of Okara and plunged into the forest of legs before her.

It wasn't easy making her way through, especially since she was taller than she had been. She had to push and punch, as well as stomp on feet in order to make her slow progress, but soon she was close enough to hear the voice of the Elder saying, "Kambei-sama and Shichiroji-sama left this morning. We must send a messenger to alert them at once."

As she pushed closer she could hear Rikichi answer, "Don't worry Elder. We've already sent the evening courier."

She didn't hear the big, booming voice she longed for. As she fought forwards, she worked herself into a frenzy. What if he was hurt? What if he was angry? What if… what if it wasn't him? No! She wouldn't let herself believe that! It WAS him! It HAD to be him!

With a final squirm and a well-aimed kick at some poor woman's shin, Komachi finally burst through. Instantly the look of joy on her face was murdered by total, perfect horror.

She didn't care that the young man standing there was smiling at her. She didn't even care that he had always been kind to her. All that mattered was he wasn't Kikuchiyo, and for that she hated him.

"There you are Komachi…" Kirara cheerfully started, then she noticed the expression on the little girl's face. It was loathing, and it was directed at the Samurai. Heihachi too wore a strange expression. He was smiling, but his eyes looked pained.

"Why?" Komachi asked, as though this was a perfectly understandable query.

If Kirara knew what her sister was about to say, she would have carried the girl off right then. Instead she simply asked, "What's wrong?" She noticed the scroll Komachi clutched, and it dawned on her too late to do anything.

Komachi pointed a fierce finger at Heihachi and, with her face scrunched up in fury, screamed "WHY CAN'T YOU BE KIKUCHIYO!?!"


	2. Grieve

I opted to leave this chapter as it is. There are enough cliffhangers to leave it interesting.

**I don't own Samurai 7 or the Characters.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

"How dare you!!!" In her shock, Kirara grasped Komachi's accusing hand and yelled, "How dare you speak like that!!! What's wrong with you!?!"

The Elder started dispersing the crowd, ushering people to return to their homes, as Komachi cried and flailed, trying to break from her sister's grip. "NO, NO, NO!!! I WANT KIKU!!! HE HAS TO COME BACK… HE PROMISED!!!"

Kirara couldn't believe how angry she was. "That's enough!" she said icily. "You've been crying about him for months now. He's not coming back so… so just get over it! You're the Mikumari now. It's time to grow up." She stood for a moment like that, then her breath caught in her chest and she realized what she just said. Those words… words she hated more than anything…

"Don't tell her that," said Heihachi. Kirara was startled. She forgot he was even there and turned to find him standing over her with a frown. "It'll only make it worse…"

Kirara felt her anger rise up against him as well, but then it dissolved into sadness and guilt… like she needed more guilt. He was right. How could she have reacted to Komachi like this? She let go of her little sister.

Komachi, now that she was unrestrained, stood there hugging the family scroll and sobbing. She herd Kirara softly say, "I'm so sorry," but she didn't move. She finally looked up when she felt a body get very close to her and found Heihachi kneeling, his face at eye level with her own. He wasn't looking at her though. He was staring at the ground.

"So, Kikuchiyo is really gone?" he asked.

This startled everyone. Rikichi stepped forward. "You didn't know?"

"Not until this evening." Heihachi looked up the hill. "The graves…" Even Komachi stared at him in silence as he dropped his gaze back to the ground. His entire body was sagging with exhaustion, overcome by an unknown weight. "Gorobei, Kyuzo, Kikuchiyo… and me. I should be with them. I should be dead, but I'm not…" His hands squeezed the skirt of his jacket. "How did Kikuchiyo..?"

Kirara realized what he was asking and said, "Even with the engine gone The Capitol was moving too fast. It was going to crash into Kanna so he got in front of it and… he stopped it."

Heihachi nodded. "So he finally found out what a Samurai is…" He gave a grim chuckle and smiled sadly at Komachi. "I'd prefer him too… I'm sorry. If I'd done my job right, he'd still be here…"

Komachi didn't know what to do, how to react. She stared at him, horrified, as the tears started to burst from her again, then she turned and ran away.

"Great Samurai, you mustn't say things like that!" Rikichi was one of the few people the Elder wasn't able to usher away. His hand tentatively found that of his wife, Sanae. "We owe our lives, and our happiness to_all_ of you."

The Elder regarded Heihachi with the same bland interest he used on most things. "Rikichi is right," he said. "You did as much as he, and you deserve to be alive as much. Only a fool would believe otherwise."

Heihachi just smiled and said, "Well, then call me a fool." He started to rise but suddenly jerked as though something hit him. He grabbed at his right side and toppled sideways.

"Ah! Are you alright?" Rikichi cried as he bent down and helped the Samurai prop himself up on one elbow.

"Yep. I'll be fine." But his voice was breathy and the broken sound was back worse than ever.

* * *

Shichiroji poked at a chunk of scorched metal with his staff. He could tell by the markings that it had once been part of a Kettle and he crouched down to inspect the edges of where it had been cut. He looked around at the fires that were still going, and cautiously touched the piece of metal to make sure it wasn't hot. He picked it up and stood, turning it over in his hands. The edges were clean, perfect. "There's no doubt about it," he sighed, looking at Kambei. "It was your sword that did this." 

Kambei stood at the edge of the clearing stroking his goatee, his brow knit. He made a gravelly "Hmm" to acknowledge his friend.

Shichiroji unceremoniously tossed the metal aside and said, "I guess I was overestimating the bandits' ability to know when they're finished, but it seems they can't take a hint. Oh well. At least Katsushiro found the war he wanted." He looked at Kambei, who said nothing, then up at the half-moon that had already risen high. "You know, I was actually looking forward to going home and wasting into an old man by Yukino's side…"

"Why can't you?" Kambei turned to Shichiroji. It was the first time he had given anything real attention since they left the Village.

Shichiroji shrugged and cast his eyes around the clearing again. "Katsushiro's improved a lot, but he's still a novice. This is the third pile of wreckage we've found today. He was crazed after the Capitol, and now he's seeking them out. I fear it won't be long before he finds more than he can handle." He looked back the way they had come. "It's too dark to tell now, but I bet we could still see a bit of Kanna back there. We've been walking all day, but all these delays keep slowing us down so we're not even out of sight of it yet…" He turned to Kambei and gave him a cheerful smile. "We'll have to find you a new sword."

But Kambei shook his head. "No," he said, "Our time in Kanna is over, as is my time as a Samurai. The farmers can defend themselves now, and Katsushiro is becoming stronger than you give him credit for. We've given them all we can, now they must hold their own."

Shichiroji scratched his blond head. "So that's it then? You're going to leave them to this threat? You're done?"

The older man turned and started walking in the direction of the desert. "You worry too much. A few scattered remnants of the bandits are not much of a threat. And yes, I'm done."

The blond cast one last look at the Village and followed his friend. He walked in silence for a few minutes before hitting his forehead with is palm. "Agh! I forgot!" he said with mocking dismay. "I have to get a gift for Yukino, or she'll never let the Momotaro thing rest."

Kambei chuckled softly and said, "There'll be plenty of vendors on the main road. We can pick something up on the way." Then he seemed to think of something and fell back into his brooding, pensive mood.

Shichiroji noticed the change in his companion, and in himself as well. "That nickname… Heihachi started it."

"I hadn't forgotten."

The two of them stayed in silence. Remembering fallen comrades was quiet business.

They made their way through the trees and finally back onto the main road. They kept their eyes open for a place to stop for the night, but before they could find anything they stopped and tensed. The sound of loud, heavy footfall was quickly filling the night. "Boom, boom, boom," it went, the unmistakable thunder of a Tortoise, and it was fast approaching.

"The Tortoise Express doesn't usually run this late," Shichiroji said softly. "Nobuseri?" In answer Kambei tensed even more. He was weaponless so Shichiroji would have to do the fighting.

After what seemed like an eternity the creature rounded a corner into view and the two Samurai relaxed. There was enough moonlight to tell that the person astride it was wearing pink. It _was_ the Tortoise Express.

The girl stopped her mount in front of them in time to hear Shichiroji say, "My, you're out late." She took a good look at them and smiled. They recognized her as one of the couriers who made regular runs between Kanna and Kougakyo. She had been the one who took their letters to Yukino and Masamune after the battle.

"Kambei Shimada," she said cheerfully down to the tousle haired Samurai, "I'm so glad I found you! The farmers asked me to get this to you ASAP." She handed him a roll of parchment.

"What's wrong?" Shichiroji asked her anxiously as Kambei read. "What happened?"

The girl shrugged. "They didn't say, just kinda forced me to go. They were pretty worked up though. It must be something big."

Kambei finished reading and made one of his deep sighs. Shichiroji round on him and said, "Well?"

Kambei gazed downwards, his eyes contemplative and distant. "I'm going back to Kanna."


	3. The Return

**Yay for Chapter 3!!! And guess what, there's plot development! **

**By the way, I'm basing everyone's speech patters on the English version (just because I don't know Japanese so I can handle it better), but I've only seen a few episodes of the series in English. I'll be using a few phrases from what I saw, but for the most part I'm basing the characters and events on the Japanese version. There are only a few subtle differences, but I just thought I should mention that.**

**I don't own Samurai 7 or the Characters.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

Kirara tried to hide her concern. They didn't know what was wrong with Heihachi that he should collapse in such pain, yet he refused to allow anyone to look at him, insisting it was just a strain. Somehow she feared it wasn't anything so simple.

He sat there, allowing himself to be prompted into sharing his distinctly rice based folklore for Sanae, who had never heard the strange proverbs before. Much to Rikichi's delight, the few things Heihachi had shared upon first meeting them was only a small sample of his vast knowledge.

Kirara, a lover of knowledge herself, might have enjoyed listening, but she was too busy noticing all that was wrong with the Samurai. First of all, his legs, which he'd usually cross while seated, were stretched out in front of him, and he was taking noticeable care not to move the right one. Also, he wore a white sock on his left foot, and she couldn't help but wonder what it was hiding.

His hair had grown and could almost hide his face, which had an unhealthy pallor. He looked as genuinely cheerful as ever, but the slightly darker shade of his eyelids, the unnatural lifelessness of his hair, the worn and, in some places, singed state of his clothing… She tried not to imagine what someone as unwaveringly good humored as Heihachi would have to go through to get to the state he was in, so she opted to blame herself for whatever it was. Focusing on self-blame was easier than thinking about it.

Heihachi abruptly stopped talking and sat up. At first Kirara feared he was reacting to her staring, but he was looking at the door she stood next to. Taking his queue, she peeked out. There in the shadows stood a young woman, the same age as Kirara, whose steely features were those of someone upset but trying to hide it. When this person realized she had been spotted she turned and disappeared into the night.

"Is someone out there?" asked a spooked Rikichi.

Kirara answered without turning. "Shino…"

"Manzo's daughter?" Rikichi looked suddenly knowing as Kirara excused herself and slipped from the house.

Sanae noticed this, and the way that Heihachi was too focused on the floorboards. She recalled the girl who had grown into a young woman in her absence. She always found Shino on the serious and solitary side, but that was understandable considering the times she had grown up in. The girl could be bold and unforgiving, but Sanae couldn't see her causing a reaction like this. "What's wrong with Manzo's daughter?" she asked.

But Heihachi snapped out of wherever his mind was. "Nothing's wrong with her," he said, looking happy again. "Now which story was I telling?"

Outside, Kirara spotted her friend's retreating back in the darkness and caught up to her. "Shino, it's late. Why are you out here?" she asked, though she could guess at the answer.

Shino stopped. "I had a fight with my Dad, and I was just… out walking. I thought _he_ was staying at your house, or I would have avoided this place."

Kirara was a little troubled by the venom in Shino's voice. "Then why were you just standing there?"

"His voice… hearing it in the dark like that was like remembering a nightmare." In barely more than a whisper she said, "Of all the Samurai to come back, why'd it have to be him?"

Kirara felt herself going on the defensive. "Perhaps you shouldn't talk like that. I know what Heihachi-sama tried to do to your father, but isn't nearly giving his life to save us enough to redeem him?"

Shino turned on her with those sharp eyes. "That's what Dad said, but he's just being an coward, as usual. He's too scared to face the Samurai, so he just forgives him like that, but the rest of us aren't ignoring it so easily."

"What are you talking about?"

"Haven't you noticed how quickly that crowd disappeared, or how quiet it is tonight?" she asked. "Little Komachi was right, if it had been Kikuchiyo-sama who'd come back, there would be a festival going on right now. Instead everyone's in their homes, afraid."

A little more than disturbed, Kirara said, "Why should anyone be afraid? It's because of the Samurai that we don't have to be anymore. The farmers are happy about Heihachi-sama's return, but it's also reminded them those who fell. That's why they're quiet, they don't know how to feel."

Shino shook her head. "Forgive me, Priestess, but you weren't there when he tried to kill Dad. _He_ is always so amiable, but that makes those who know what he can be like more uncomfortable. I've talked to people who were there, and even some of the men he commanded during that battle, 'the Storm.' None of them feel safe with him around. His eyes looked like the eyes of a demon, like he had no soul."

It was true that most of the farmers were always put-off around him, but they were like that with all the Samurai. "They said that about Kyuzo-sama as well."

"At least Kyuzo-sama was consistent. But this one puts on a nice act to lure people like you in. He isn't normal, Kirara, you just haven't seen that side of him yet."

Kirara momentarily feared that she would loose control with Shino like she had with Komachi, but luckily this situation didn't surprise her like her sister's outburst had. In fact, she felt a small twinge of understanding, like she was being convinced by Shino's argument. Then the image of Heihachi standing by his own grave crept into her mind and she felt awful. She just couldn't accept the cheerful rice lover as frightening. "Rikichi and Shichiroji-sama both saw him like that twice, and they don't feel like you do," she said. "I agree with you that he's strange, but please, _please_ understand that he is a truly benevolent person. The only time you've been around him was when he was angry, and you avoided him after that so you don't even know what he's like the rest of the time. Shouldn't you learn more about someone before you pass judgment on them?"

Shino didn't answer. She stood there looking thoughtful before turning and walking away.

Kirara sighed, feeling like she hadn't accomplished much. She was thoroughly exhausted, but she headed back to the Samurai's house.

* * *

After awhile everyone but Kirara, who was too worried about Heihachi's condition to leave him alone, returned to their own beds for the night, and the Water Priestess didn't last long before she fell fast asleep in a corner. Only Heihachi remained awake, sitting propped up on a futon, absorbed in his own thoughts.

The moon had started to sink back down when there came a soft knock at the door. Heihachi reflexively tried to get up and answer it, but failed with a miserable wince of pain. Fortunately the knock woke Kirara up. She slid the door back to reveal a tall older man with thick hair of a tired, dusty brown that matched his eyes. "Kambei-sama!" she said as he walked in and sat next to Heihachi without a word. The two inclined to each other in a subtle bow that said, "good to see you again." He was followed by a lanky man who had blue eyes and blond hair pulled back into a three-pronged pinwheel.

"Huh, so the farmers weren't kidding," said the blond. Though his voice sounded dull and bored, his face showed genuine happiness. "And here I thought they just wanted us to come back."

"Shichiroji-dono," Heihachi beamed, giving as much of a bow as he could manage. "We weren't expecting you for at least a day. How did you get back so quickly?"

Shichiroji shrugged. "We didn't get very far when the Tortoise caught us. I guess you just have good timing." He took a good long look at Heihachi's dilapidated appearance and said, "You look like hell."

Heihachi snorted at that. "You should have seen me last fall."

Kambei was pensively observing the younger Samurai and finally spoke up. "How are you injured?" he asked.

"It's just a pulled muscle," he answered a little too quickly.

Kirara interrupted. "It was enough to make him collapse, and he won't let anyone look at him."

He gave her a gloomy look. "It's nothing."

Shichiroji chuckled at that. "Just like that shrapnel wound in your stomach was nothing?"

Heihachi grinned, and scratched his head sheepishly. "Well… I…"

"You need not be ashamed of your injuries, Heihachi-dono," Kambei interjected.

The redhead's eyes widened with surprise at that. He observed Kambei with an awkward smile. "I've never done anything worth injuries like this before," he said in a small voice. "I'm not ashamed. I just don't like people making a fuss over me." He sighed. "I'm in pain now due to my own foolishness. The bullet wound… I thought it was healed, that I was ready for the journey here, but I guess not. Well… I over exerted myself and here I am. It really is just a strain. A few days rest and I'll be fine."

Shichiroji's eyes lingered apprehensively over the other man's socked left foot. "I guess it could be worse," he said. "Some Kami must be favoring you, to still be breathing after what Katsushiro described. I mean: shot, crushed, and blown-up? If that's not luck, I don't know what is."

Heihachi's smile barely lingered as he noticed what Shichiroji was looking at. Kambei and Kirara were looking there too. "I might be breathing," he said. "But I was in bad shape. I guess I should get this over with now." He reached down and, untucking it from the sock, rolled up his pant leg to his knee.

Kirara gasped audibly and placed a hand to her mouth. Instead of flesh, Heihachi's leg was metal… an ugly, crude looking mechanical prosthetic.

"There's no need for a reaction like that," he said with a kind smile. "It looks bad, but it doesn't hurt."

Kirara was going to contest but Shichiroji cut her off. "He's right. Prosthetics these days aren't as uncomfortable as people think," he said, waving his own metal hand at her. When she responded by looking away and nodding he turned to Heihachi. "I'm suppressed you could afford it."

"You said it already, call it luck," said Heihachi. "It's nowhere near as well-made as your arm, but it works. I'm thinking of paying a visit to Masamune after this, see if he can't help me refine it."

"After this?" Kambei said. "How long do you plan on staying?"

"Don't know. I don't want to impose myself on the farmers, but I doubt I can make it far while I'm like this. Especially with all the Nobuseri –"

Kirara was frozen with shock. "Nobuseri?! After all we did, there's still Nobuseri?"

But Heihachi shook his head and said, "It's not what it sounds like. They were just highway robbers, probably kids who salvaged some Kettles left after our little war. They're popping up all over the place now that the real Nobuseri are gone, but they're just a minor problem. That is, unless you're swordless and injured. I ran into some and that's how I got hurt… might have been done for if I hadn't run into Katsushiro-kun, or I should say Katsushiro-_dono_. You gave him your sword?" he asked Kambei.

The older man nodded. "How was he?"

Heihachi shrugged. "Passionate I think describes it. It was weird. He didn't seem to feel that running into a supposedly dead man was odd, just said he didn't want to talk to me and walked off."

"Hmm," was Kambei's only reply.

Kirara whispered, "Katsushiro…" under her breath. So he was still fighting, and acting strange as well? It was one more pang added to the pile of this already guilt-ridden day. Suddenly having the memories of her sins against Katsushiro thrust upon her like that was too much. She clutched at her heart, trying to suppress the threatening tears.

"Lady Kirara, perhaps you should get some rest," Kambei interrupted.

She looked up and met his eyes. Eyes she loved despite herself, but in which she could not see her love reflected. Stifling a sob, she stood and quickly bowed herself from the house.

The three Samurai sat in silence, not knowing what to say after that.

Heihachi finally spoke up. "I knew this would happen," he said bitterly. "All I've done is stir up everyone's grief."

"Is that why you never let us know you were alive?" asked Kambei.

Heihachi shook his head sadly. "I told myself I wasn't coming back here."

"Then why did you?"

He turned to the other two with a sudden seriousness. "I was worried," he said. "I needed to know what happened."

"What? The Capitol fell… the whole world should know that by now," said a confused looking Shichiroji.

"Oh, they know about the Capitol alright," Heihachi answered. "I didn't want to talk about this in front of the villagers - it's not their problem anymore – but the story of what happened here is being interfered with. There are about a dozen different versions and counting, and not one of them makes the connection between the Capitol and the Bandits. It makes us look like the monsters that took out the first benevolent Amanushi. Some of the Samurai are even talking about avenging Ukyo…"

Kambei just grumbled, but Shichiroji was genuinely surprised. "No way! Kanna's been doing trade with Kougakyou all winter. With all the Tortoises going back and forth the whole city knows what happened. It has to have spread from there."

Heihachi nodded. "I know. It's as though someone is deliberately altering any messages leaving the city, sending different stories in each direction just to confuse everybody. I haven't been to the city yet, but I could bet it's just as bad as everywhere else. That's not the worse part though. There are rumors that the Nobuseri – the real Nobuseri – are gathering out in the desert. Hopefully they're just rumors, but I wouldn't take that chance. Something strange is going on."

"So the good weather is already passing. Another storm looms." Kambei sighed. "Our battle is over, we lost. Unlike Katsushiro, we needn't seek out a new one."

"We lost?" asked Heihachi quizzically, "but I thought…"

"You've already redeemed yourself, Heihachi-dono," Kambei cut him off. "You should get some rest. You look terrible." With that he rose and left.


	4. Scars

Disclaimer: I don't own Samurai 7 or it's characters

**Well, here's Chapter 4. I don't have much to say about it except:**

**Hope you enjoy.**

_The fog… it falls lazy and thick over the world around him. It would be lonely, but someone else is there. He doesn't turn around. He fears who it might be._

_He can't see anything but gray emptiness. The rain is coming down hard now, soaking to his very soul, yet his feet know their path. He follows the flow of a river he feels is there. _

_There is something up ahead, but rather than getting closer it just seems to form into a dense mass in the fog. Finally he knows what it is, it's Kanna Village. He's almost there. The journey is almost over. _

_He realizes the river has run dry, and all the water has pooled or drifted away. _

_Finally the thick air dissipates and he can see it, the pillar of stone that rises from the ocean, but the Village is gone. There, perched instead, is an airship… At first he thinks it's the Capitol, but it's too grand, too old. It is one of the great ancient cities of which the Capitol had been but a crude approximation._

_"Isn't it beautiful?" comes a whisper in his ear. _

_He gasps and turns around. The old man is so close he can feel the gingery bristles of a beard wisp against his neck, and that voice… he thought he had forgotten it long ago… It's something from a memory, but he should be a boy and the man shouldn't be dead._

_But there's no one behind him, at least no one he can see. _

_He can sense them though… there are hundreds of them, his entire unite. They're waiting for him just out of reach, separated only by the moist gray air. Are they coming for him? Is it finally over?_

"_Please," he pleads to them, "please, come where I can see you." But they don't. "I'm trying my hardest, but I'm not strong enough. I haven't made a difference. Why… why do I have to keep this up?"_

_In answer he hears a splash as the water overflows and covers the ground, soaking his boots. It surges over them and they are swept away. "NO!" He fights the current but it's no use… he can't move, can't save them._

_He looks down to see his legs are pinned by a Raiden's sword. He tries to push it away but it won't budge. Someone calls out to him and he looks up, expecting to see a battle, expecting Katsushiro. _

_Instead the world is still and quiet, and it is a much taller, much older Samurai than Katsushiro who stands before him._

"_Gorobei?"_

_Gorobei nods._

"_But you're not in this battle," he points out. " You're already dead…"_

_Gorobei smiles at that. "I just lost, that's all. You survived. You won. Congratulations." The old entertainer slowly claps his hands._

"_I didn't win anything!" he yells. "My life isn't like that! To survive isn't enough… I'll never win while I live!. I'll only be redeemed when I die…" He realizes he holds the trigger mechanism in his hand. He thought dieing wasn't an option, but now it seems like it might be nice. _

"_Then why do you keep surviving?"_

"_I don't…" He pushes the button._

"_So you've given up? Do you really think dieing will redeem you? You must be joking!"_

"_What?"_

"_It's the easy way out."_

"_No…" he whispers. Gorobei is right. He takes it back, he wants to live, but it's too late. The world is falling away. He's being swallowed by the flames and debris… again. The pain of it… It's much too real to be a dream… _

"Heihachi, it's OK! Wake up!"

_He's fighting it, clawing desperately to escape the burning and the pain, desperately towards life. It's no use though. Something presses down on him, stopping his movements. It's the pillar. It's happening again, he is trapped. He can smell the smoke and dust… and burning flesh. He can taste his own blood as it spills into his mouth and over the ground, but he isn't giving up yet!_

"Wake up, dammit! You're going to hurt yourself!"

When Heihachi opened his eyes, instead of the smoke and destruction he was expecting, he was met with the quaint interior of a Village house, and the concerned face of a friend.

"Shi… Shichiroji?" he managed to mutter.

The blond smiled, but his face didn't brighten. "There you are. You alright?"

Heihachi didn't answer. Once Shichiroji let him go he placed a shaking hand over the clammy, feverish skin of his face and took several deep, shuddering breaths. When he seemed to calm a little, he pulled back the blankets and forced himself to sit up a little despite groaning in obvious pain. Anxiously he observed the loose blue village garb he'd been changed into while he slept and opened the top to feel over the scar from the exit wound in his right side. He moved on to the ugly burn scars that twisted his skin in patches around his waist, and gingerly flexed and unflexed both legs. Satisfied, he collapsed back onto his futon and allowed relief and exhaustion to take over.

"You were back on the Capitol, huh?" Shichiroji had moved away and was tending a pot of something on the fire pit.

"Yeah," Heihachi answered. He looked over at Shichiroji with a small, and very tired smile. Then his eyes found a window and his face fell. "The sun hasn't even risen yet?"

Shichiroji noted the dark night sky, but shook his head. "Oh, it rose alright, and set again."

"I slept through the day?" Heihachi more stated than asked. He looked troubled and more haggard than ever.

"Fretfully I might add." Shichiroji observed with growing perplexity the poor state of his friend, as he understood too well what Heihachi was feeling, but hated the thought of pushing the issue and causing the redhead more discomfort. Yet he also understood from past experience that Heihachi would not volunteer the extent of his condition or seek help with it. There was no other way. "How often do you have these dreams?" he asked.

Heihachi indeed looked very uncomfortable at that. His eyes grew distant, probably weighing possible answers as Shichiroji figured. Finally he caved and simply said, "Every night." There was an uncertain pause before he added, "They've gotten worse since I decided to come back."

"That's why you look so ill?"

"Correct." He sighed and said, "I'm so tired, but I'm afraid to sleep, and when I do I wake up more exhausted than before. It's so stupid… I got hurt. Naturally I should get better, get over it, and move on. Instead I keep falling apart." He smiled to himself and rubbed a hand over his face. "Listen to me… I sound pathetic."

Shichiroji felt his heart lurch sympathetically at that. He removed the pot from the fire, turned to Heihachi and said, "That's not true. I met a lot of people hurt during and since the Great War who've said the same thing… I myself felt that way when I was recovering from this," he held up his metal arm. "It took me almost a year for the pain to finally subside enough for me to function. For you to be well enough to make it here alone within a few months of being so badly injured is incredible, and as for the dreams, they're to be expected, especially since coming back here is forcing you to face what happened. It'll get better though, trust me."

Heihachi met this with a smile full of real warmth, but his brow was pursed. "Thank you," he said, "but I already know all that." When his friend looked slightly taken aback he looked away, still smiling. "I've also been through this before, yet here I am griping about it like it's the end of the world. That's why I'm pathetic… I'm falling into that old trap again. I need to accept things the way they are and focus on getting better."

Shichiroji chuckled in disbelief. "Suck it up and stay positive right?"

Heihachi shrugged and grinned. "You say it with such elegance.".

"I'm glad to hear you sounding more like yourself," said the blond as he turned and started stirring the cooling contents of the pot, but he was worried and it showed. "Just… don't act like you did with the ballista, or after the Storm, alright?"

Heihachi sank awkwardly into the futon. "You're not letting that rest are you?"

"Should I?" he said. "Twice now you've disregarded your health... three times if you count what happened on the Capitol." He looked at Heihachi seriously. "You don't have a war going on as an excuse anymore, so please don't do it again."

Heihachi patted his injured side and said, "You're a little too late."

Shichiroji was getting frustrated, but his friend looked like he was ready to nod off. Instead of giving the redhead a further hard time, he took up a bowl and started to scoop what turned out to be rice from the pot. "Here," he said, offering the bowl and some chopsticks, "Part of why you're so tired might be from hunger."

But Heihachi just gave it a grumbly, one eyed glare. "I'd love to eat that, but just the thought is making me nauseous." He noted the concern on the blonde's face and turned away from it. "I'm fine. I just don't have much of an appetite right now."

Shichiroji guessed that was why he hadn't yet suggested rice as a cure for his ailments. If the rice lover was refusing rice, than it really was bad, and yet he was still insisting he was fine as though that alone would cure him. "Heihachi, you can't stubborn yourself to health."

Heihachi was silent. His face was still turned away so it was hard to tell if he was unconscious or just not commenting. Shichiroji noted the slowing in his breathing and, figuring he was asleep, covered him with the blanket he threw off earlier. Without opening his eyes he whispered, "You don't have to do this, you know."

"Do what?" Shichiroji moved away and started to eat the bowl of rice himself.

"Why don't you just leave me alone? I don't deserve you're help…" He was more mumbling than anything else. If he wasn't asleep he was close enough that he might as well be.

"I like to think we're friends," Shichiroji answered casually, "and I'm not in the habit of leaving my friends to suffer alone."

All that he heard of Heihachi's reply was, "…don't deserve…" and Shichiroji didn't like the use of that word. It wasn't "want," or "need," but "deserve."

Was Heihachi blaming himself for something? It made Shichiroji think of something that was still bothering him. "What did Kambei mean last night, when he said you redeemed yourself?" He regretted asking, prying, but Heihachi didn't answer anyways. He turned, expecting the redhead to be looking at him in shock of such a question, or at least looking defensive.

Instead Heihachi looked deep asleep. His eyebrows were contracted a little from pain, but otherwise he looked peaceful.

Shichiroji sighed and scratched his head. He was relieved and annoyed at the same time. "You better not be faking it."

The corner of Heihachi's mouth twitched up ever so slightly as he whispered, "I'm not..."


	5. Weapons

**Chapter 5, FINALLY. Massive writer's block here and I think it's going tohappen again. I know where this story is going to go, but I'm just not sure how to get there.**

**I don't own Samurai 7 or the characters. **

**Note: a **_**hamon**_** is the natural pattern that appears along the cutting edge of a katana.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

The sun hadn't even risen yet, and it was only by the subtle graying of the sky that Shichiroji could make out his fellow Samurai. He was a little relieved to see that Kambei, who was sitting on a large stone, had a sword draped in his lap and was inspecting it. That didn't last long when he noticed whose sword it was.

"Were the funeral rites recanted before you took that?" he asked, nodding at Heihachi's sword.

"Of course… and besides, I was the one who put it in the ground. It is only appropriate that I should be the one to remove it." Kambei was lost in his focus as he continued to look it over. Shichiroji couldn't see why he should be so fascinated. The blond never did have much interest in swords and as far as he could tell, except for the unusual grooves and serrations near the hilt, this one was as boring as they come. It was a dull lusterless gray and didn't even have a _hamon_.

The elder noticed his friend's scrutiny and said, "I couldn't sleep so I thought I would sharpen Heihachi's sword for him. I assumed that it would be dull after sitting outside all winter… but it seems I was mistaken."

"Um… okay?"

Kambei chuckled at his friend's obvious confusion. "Other than our companion, I'm the only person here who's touched it, and I must say, I'm impressed. Here," he said as he held the hilt out towards Shichiroji. "You can learn a lot about a Samurai by bearing the weight of his weapon."

The blond felt a little weird that Kambei should be offering someone else's sword to him. "Isn't that disrespectful?"

Kambei blinked and snapped out of whatever daze he was in. "Yes, you're right."

In the awkward silence that overtook the two, Shichiroji sat on the stone and ran a hand over his hair. "You've both been acting strange."

The older man just 'hmm'ed in reply.

He sat and stared thoughtfully at the first bit of sunlight that shimmered over the tree line before continuing. "What was that whole 'redemption' thing you mentioned. What does he need to redeem himself for? Did he say something to you?"

Kambei looked at him with stern and guarded eyes. "Heihachi's affairs are his own to share."

Shichiroji nodded with satisfaction. "You're absolutely right," he said. "Normally I couldn't give a damn about someone's past, but he's beating himself pretty hard about it in his own subtle way. It's almost killed him more than once, and I don't think he'll stop until it does."

"That's his choice."

"Then why are you here?" Shichiroji wore a frown as he continued, "It's not like you to just abandon someone who needs help… and yet you haven't gone near him since we got back." He tapped his spear against his shoulder as he thought out loud. "You've already said you're not interested in his bad news, but I know you told the Elder about it yesterday. You won't get a new sword, but you won't leave Kanna either. None of your actions are adding up."

Kambei didn't answer so Shichiroji sighed, defeated. "Is it curiosity then?" he asked. Still no answer. "I couldn't blame you if it was." He continued to tap his shoulder, contemplating whether or not he should continue. "Do you remember that injury he got during the Storm?"

Finally Kambei grunted an affirmative, so Shichiroji went on. "He acted like it was nothing, but after the battle ended and you left he collapsed. That wound… We were all certain it was fatal, yet by the next day he was up and walking around. Now this happens… I got a look at his scars you know, and that bullet would have gone through some very vital organs. That and what Katsushiro described… I dunno… it's not that I want Heihachi to be dead, but there's just no way. He shouldn't be alive."

Kambei stared at the brightening horizon, lost in deep thought. Finally he spoke. "Don't confront him about it."

Shichiroji looked at him curiously. "Really?"

He nodded. "Shichiroji, why didn't you tell anyone that you were alive after the Great War?"

The blond shrugged to try and hide his unnerve. He spoke softly. "I never really thought about it. I guess I was afraid of finding out how many of my comrades died while I survived…"

Kambei nodded again. "I believe Heihachi-dono did it out of fear as well, just of a different type. What he said, about not coming back – It makes me think he expects us to question his survival. That's what he fears, so he wanted the option of running away without facing us."

"But he heard some rumors and came back anyways?"

The older Samurai shook his head and said, "I believe it's more than that. You're right. I am curious, and I want to help him, but he'll seek that help in his own way and time. Most likely he's here on a whim, and there's not much stopping him from simply disappearing if we give him reason to. We mustn't give him that reason."

"That's quite a bit of insight." Shichiroji laughed to himself. "Go figure, he'd show up the day we leave though, huh?"

"The river of–"

"-fate runs a strange and winding coarse. Yeah, yeah. I know." The blond smiled. "I haven't heard that one in awhile." He watched Kambei for a moment while he let everything sink in. "Whatever you know about him, it's big isn't it...?"

Kambei didn't answer. He merely stared into the sunrise.

* * *

When Heihachi woke up he tried to sit, but quickly regretted it. He felt hot, and his stomach hurt like hell. He patted the area gingerly and groaned. It felt like it had months ago.

He could hear something pleasant… bells and many people singing. The sky outside the window was bright and beautiful. The farmers were planting their rice.

There was some humming close by too. Komachi was sitting in a corner, weaving a basket, and when she noticed Heihachi looking at her, she gasped and ran out of the house.

He put his arm out, wanting to call her back, but it was too late. She was gone. He crossed his arms over his chest and lay there in misery. Then the door opened and the little brown haired girl came back in.

"Hey there!" Heihachi said with a relived grin. "Huh?"

The girl silently climbed onto the wood floor and knelt next to him with her face to the ground. She held a plate in offering that had at least a dozen rice balls on it.

"Are those for me?"

Komachi nodded. "Heihachi-sama, please forgive me!" She said very in a very rigid and formal tone.

"What are you apologizing for?" he said as he scratched his forehead.

Komachi looked up in surprise. "What I said to you the other night! It was really wrong, and I made you sad. I don't want Kiku back instead of you. I didn't mean it."

"Yes you did." He was still smiling, but she couldn't read his expression.

"No! I –"

"It's okay. Be honest, and don't worry. I didn't take it personally. You would have reacted the same if it was Kyuzo-dono who came back." His face softened and he winked at her. "I can forgive honesty."

"I just…" Komachi wiped at her eyes where tears were starting to form. "I miss him so much…"

"I think we all do… He was a big, loud, annoying moron, and all he could do was bash things with that sword of his… yet he had the strongest spirit of anyone I've ever met…"

The little girl looked closely at Heihachi's face, certain he was crying, but he wasn't. He looked at her gently and said. "Instead of being sad that he's gone, you should be happy you had the time with him that you did."

She sniffled. "He promised me he'd come back."

Heihachi's jaw dropped in disbelief, but now that he thought about it, that night in the desert… "He did, didn't he…" When Komachi nodded he thought _"Awe Kikuchiyo, you idiot,"_ but he said, "Than he's already here with you."

"He is?"

"Yep." He pointed at her. "He's right there."

Komachi looked where he was pointing and placed her hand over her heart. When she looked back up at Heihachi she had a bland expression. "…That's kind of cheesy you know."

Heihachi grinned, looking bashful. "Yeah…" he said, "I know."

* * *

The trees weren't as spread out or old as the ones around Kanna, probably because they were cut down and regrown every few decades or so. They were all softwoods, good for burning but not much else, and their dewy leaves rasped playfully against a young man's clothes as he pushed his way through them. 

There was no particular direction the Samurai was headed in and no purpose to his steps, for he truly believed that he was either being led somewhere, or being shepherded… or both. It was early morning, and he stopped in a small glade to enjoy the sunlight for a moment. That was a mistake.

He didn't turn when he sensed the presence that was behind him. He didn't need to. He could see red at the edge of his vision, and he knew who it was.

"What a nice morning," came the other's cheerful voice, as cold, deep cutting, and steely as the blades he once lived by.

The Samurai didn't respond, and kept walking as though there was no one there. As he moved he heard no breathing. There was no sound of the trees hitting his companion and the only footfalls that echoed through the forest were his own.

"So where are you headed, Katsushiro-kun?" his stalker asked conversationally.

Katsushiro didn't answer.

"Do you even know?"

He kept moving.

"You don't do you? You just keep walking around, looking for a fight. It's sad really. You're just a pathetic little kid trying to play Samurai in a world that no longer wants you."

He didn't realize it, but he sped up.

"Hmm, ignoring me are we? How rude. I thought if you had any decent traits at all it would have been manners, but I guess you lack even those."

He caved and without stopping said, "Kyuzo-dono, you are going to stop talking now," in a barely steady voice.

There was silence. This worked a couple of days ago when Katsushiro ran into Heihachi's figment, but just when Katsushiro thought he might escape the voice, Kyuzo started up again. "Really? What makes you think that?"

"I'm not having this conversation. You're a figment of my mind and I don't have to listen to you if I don't want to."

Kyuzo laughed. It was a brittle sound, like ice breaking on a shore. "But what if you want to and you don't know it? Or better yet, what if I'm not a figment? I could be a ghost. You do believe in ghosts don't you?"

Katsushiro almost tripped over a root as he spat, "That's impossible!"

"How so?"

"Kyuzo-dono would never talk as much as you." He ignored the laughter and went on. "You're just a manifestation of my guilt."

"Perhaps… or perhaps I never talked while I was alive for fear of making a fool of myself. Now that I'm dead, what does it matter?"

Katsushiro tried ignoring him again.

"Being haunted by my ghost does make sense. After all, you killed me."

"Shut up!" Katsushiro broke into a run as he neared the end of the trees.

"Why should I? Because I struck a nerve? You don't think you struck any of mine when you _gunned me down_?"

"I SAID SHUT UP!!!" Katsushiro burst into the open, turned, and drew his sword, but there was nothing there to attack except the indignantly swaying trees. In shock of suddenly finding himself alone he froze, holding his sensei's sword with trembling hands, and gulping down wheezing breaths.

After several minutes he calmed down enough to put his sword away and look at where he was.

The villagers had built a shrine where Wing Rock once stood… the spot where Kikuchiyo fell. They built it to hold some of the items left behind by the fallen Samurai, and he found himself in the field just beyond it. It didn't shock him that much to be back in Kanna once again. He just sighed as he turned to leave.

That's when something glinted near his feet. He wouldn't have cared that much, but he remembered the villagers were always looking for bits a certain lost machine Samurai. He bent down and plucked at the mud, coming up with a capsule small enough to fill the palm of his hand. It was made of glass, which was cracked, and it was encased in protective metal. Inside were dull, colorless flakes of something-or-other that reminded him of the contents of Kirara's pendent. Turning it over to inspect one end he found that, sure enough, the name 'Kikuchiyo' was engraved there.

"Hey, Katsushiro-dono!"

The young Samurai jumped and almost dropped the capsule when Shichiroji came out of the shrine with a bundle of things and yelled at him. Without saying a word, Katsushiro darted back into the woods and kept running until he knew he'd be well out of sight and earshot.


	6. Onigiri

**Disclaimer: I don't own Samurai 7 or it's characters**

**Wow… long chapter. Um, odd stuff happens. My justification is that they're all stressed out. Please don't be mad at me.**

**Hope you enjoy**

Kirara was going about her normal morning routine when her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of stifled giggling. It wasn't hard to spot the source: three village girls who were crowded around the back window of the Samurai House. This was a normal event. These particular three were very tenacious and had been at it all winter. It just surprised the Priestess that they were still up to their foolishness, what with Katsushiro gone.

As she got closer she caught one whispering, "You're right… get him out of those grungy clothes and he's actually really cute…"

Another picked up with, "His hair's gotten longer. It's kinda cool how it hangs in his eyes like that, right?"

The third rambled on. "He's so… nice! He's even good with kids… but he got so scary with Manzo. I wonder if he throws mood swings all the time? It makes him _sooo_ mysterious…"

They were too absorbed in their spying to notice Kirara come up behind them and peer through the window. Heihachi was inside, sitting up and laughing, and he was joined by Komachi and Okara.

"He's a lot skinnier than I thought… I wonder why someone would wear clothes that makes them look pudgy?"

"It's such a pretty color. He'd probably look great if he pulled it back into a ponytail…"

"It was so weird how he came back, too. Oh, it looks like he's still sick…"

The Samurai and the children were playing some sort of card game, and much to Kirara's relief, there was a plate of rice balls next to them that only had three left. It looked like he was eating again.

"He has a great body… I wonder why he'd want to hide it?"

"I bet it's really soft…"

"Poor thing. Do you think he'll let _us_ take care of him?"

The Priestess was getting very annoyed with the level of immaturity at which these girls were behaving. In a slightly sinister manner, she coughed to get their attention.

They winced and turned to look at her, but smiled greedily when they saw who it was. "Hello Kirara," said the tallest of the three. She still spoke with her voice low so the occupants of the house didn't notice them.

"So, since Katsushiro-sama isn't here for you to harass anymore you've moved on to someone else," the Priestess whispered.

"Well yeah! By the way, you've spent more time around the Samurai than anyone, so tell us, what's this one like?"

The short beady-eyed one almost squealed with restrained giggles. "Yes, yes. He was always so busy before that we hardly ever saw him. Tell us! Tell us!"

"Is he married? How old is he? Was he really in the Great War?" that was the slouching one.

Kirara was flustered by the onslaught of girl talk. She expected these girls to feel threatened by her and leave, not turn around and interrogate her. "Ye…yes, he was in the War. Other than that I know nothing… and it's really none of your business anyways."

Two of them looked disappointed, but the sloucher perked up at that. "So he's a mystery… interesting…"

Kirara was getting ticked, and she was going to scold them, but the tallest cut her off.

"But what's he _like_, Kirara?"

"He likes rice…" it was the first thing she could think of. The girls gave her a blank stare and she had half a mind to tell them off again. That would be useless, though, so instead she tried to answer. "Heihachi is…" what? What could she say… that he's weird? It wasn't like she knew him well… even now she could care less. "…he's himself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means he probably wouldn't have any interest in silly farm girls like you three!" she snapped as much as her whispering could let her.

They just giggled at her and said, "Well, of course he'll be interested in us… he's-"

"I'm what?"

The girls all shrieked and jumped almost three feet in the air. There was the very man they were talking about leaning out the window. The distinctive sound of Okara's snickering could be heard from behind him.

"I'm sorry for interrupting you, but we can hear everything you're whispering," he said. "Why don't you come inside and talk instead?"

The girls were spluttering at this and shaking their heads, fearful over being caught.

Heihachi cocked his head questioningly at them. "Are you sure? It's just that skulking around the window… that's a little creepy, so if you're not going to come inside than I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave." He said all of this in his normal, enthusiastically pleasant manner, like he was actually trying to convince them to come inside. Kirara wasn't sure how, but this made him much more intimidating than if he were yelling or threatening them.

They went rigid and gave him a deep bow, saying a unified, "FORGIVEUSGREATSAMURAI!!" before dashing away like mad.

Kirara could have laughed, but she caught the Samurai sighing. "Why do they always run once they're invited…?" he said with humor in his voice.

"Don't worry, they'll be back," called Okara from within the hut.

Kirara turned to the Samurai, a little worried. The child was right; those girls would probably be after him even worse in an hour or so. "Forgive me, Heihachi-sama. I'll do what I can to make sure they leave you alone."

Heihachi casually waved her off. "Nonsense. I'm used to this." At her surprise he explained, "Kanna isn't the only village that has girls like that, and with the amount that I've traveled, I've had a lot of experience with _their_ type. I know how to take care of them."

Kirara's smile faltered. Although it sounded innocent enough, he didn't specify what _kind_ of experience he had or _how _he could take care of them. Did he really mean to chase the girls off or was he actually trying to get closer to them? Could what she had assumed to be ironic humor actually be literal intent? She recalled Shino's words, _"This one puts on a nice act to lure people in…"_ But no, there was no way. She was just letting Shino's unfounded suspicions get to her.

Yet the Priestess was suddenly less worried about him and more about her Village girls. She was starting to wonder… she told the others he wouldn't be interested, but she had never seen him in this context and he was a difficult person to peg. And he was a man after all…

"Still…" he said softly, breaking her out of her speculations, "I shudder to think what kind of trouble they could get themselves into. Girls like that will usually jump on any man that carries a sword, even sloppy little me… Some of those men are less than honorable. Perhaps you _should_ have a word with them."

…A most difficult person to peg indeed. "Yes, of course." Kirara felt horrible, even if she only suspected him for a moment. Why was she always making these mistakes? She knew that it was probably her mind running wild from stress, making connections where there was none, but that didn't make it alright.

"What's wrong?" The Samurai watched her with concern.

Kirara tried to brighten her face and said, "Nothing. Please excuse me Heihachi-sama, I have much work to do." She just wanted to be alone, as she did so often these days.

As Heihachi watched her leave, Komachi went over to him and pulled herself up to peer over the window ledge. "She's been like that all winter."

Okara scoffed. "You haven't been much better!"

"I have so!" her friend cried, rounding on her.

The Samurai smiled as they bickered and made his way not to where he had been sitting, but to his bed. He lowered himself slowly onto the futon and grunted as he stretched his aching legs before him and leaned his sore back onto the pillows. He would be a fool not to acknowledge how much that little exertion was costing his weakened body, and it frustrated him to no end.

"You shouldn't have gotten up, huh?" The little Priestess half scolded. She crossed her arms and tried to mimic the look her grandmother gave her when she would play in the snow for too long and make herself sick.

"I guess not," said Heihachi, amused by this display.

"Do you want to sleep?"

"Nah," he said, "I've slept quite enough, I'm just a little sore."

"It was worth it though," said Okara. She sat next to him, eating one of the last three rice balls. "That worked brilliantly. I've never seen someone actually get rid of those three. Even Katsushiro must have tried and failed at least a dozen times."

Heihachi shrugged. "They _want_ me to play hard to get. If I do the opposite of what they want than most of the time they leave me alone."

She gave him a wily grin and said, "A sound theory. Now we just have to figure out a way to make them stay gone."

* * *

A little later, Shichiroji walked back into the Village carrying the sheath and original white doll that went with Heihachi's sword, as well as his hat and goggles. 

He stopped near the Samurai House when he noticed a certain girl with short brown hair and a hat walking by… _again_. "You there," he called to her, amused. "It's Shino, right?"

Shino turned around and beamed at him. "Hello, Shichiroji-sama," she said, giving him a slight bow, "How may I help you?"

Shichiroji gave her a sly look as he said, "Shouldn't you be in the fields planting some rice right now."

She gave him a similar sly look back. "I got a cut on my ankle yesterday and my father insisted I stay out of the fields until it closes up. I think he fears my leg might fall off. One legged daughters are hard to marry off after all."

Shichiroji chuckled. "Listen, have you seen Lady Kirara or Kambei-sama around? I need to talk to them."

"I saw Kirara headed in the direction of the spring a little while ago. As for Kambei-sama, I'm sorry. I don't know where he is."

"Well, if your not busy, could I get you to take this to Heihachi-dono?" He held out the stuff he was carrying.

She looked him with wary eyes and said, "Why can't you bring it to him?"

The blond shrugged. "Do you think I'd be asking you where the others are if it wasn't urgent?"

"Have you forgotten who I am?"

"Nope."

She turned away from him with her arms crossed. "Then you understand why I want nothing to do with that man."

"I suppose that's why you keep walking by this place?"

She glared at him and was met by his smirk. She wasn't sure of an answer so she opted for the same one she gave Kirara the other night. "He scares me…"

Shichiroji's smirk stayed as he nodded. "If you're trying to face your fear, this is the golden opportunity." She turned away from him again. "Oh well," he said in a mockingly disappointed voice, "I'll just have to find someone else."

He started to walk away, but Shino snatched the things from him and walked deliberately towards the house.

As he watched her go, Kambei came up behind him. "What are you doing?" Kambei asked.

"Just making things interesting."

* * *

Shino threw open the sliding door with a heavy "clunk" and was instantly rooted to the spot. Heihachi was propped up with the blankets bundled at his waist, still dressed in villager garb, as his own clothes were being cleaned and mended. He had a half eaten rice ball raised to his mouth, and he paused to give her a questioning look before taking a large bite. 

"What do you two think you're doing!?!?" She yelled, for Komachi and Okara sat on either of Heihachi's head and were up to the unthinkable.

Okara gave Shino her usual heavy lidded smirk. "What's it look like," she said, "We're braiding his hair."

"What's the matter? Don't I look lovely?" Heihachi asked in a very feminine voice.

The girls had managed to get more than half of his thick, scruffy ginger hair into tight ropes that stuck straight up in odd coiling tendrils. On top of that, his bangs and the rest of what wasn't done yet hung about, as unkempt as ever. It looked like his head was sprouting an orange plant.

Shino continued to stand there with her mouth open, mortified.

Heihachi stared back and said, "What's wrong with you?" He and the girls managed to keep straight faces for all of five seconds before bursting into a fit of laughter.

Shino clapped her hand over her mouth and turned slightly red as she choked down her own laughter. She presented his sheath and doll with a small bow. "Shichiroji-sama asked me to give this to you," she said without emotion.

He took them graciously and asked Komachi to bring his sword that was sitting in a corner of the room. At first she tried to carry it, but it dropped to the floor with a loud clatter. She managed to lift it by the hilt and drag it over to him. "H-how heavy is this thing?" she panted.

"Oh, heavy enough," he said as he easily picked it up and slid it into the sheath. He then inspected the new doll attached to it. This one had no face drawn on it; he'd have to fix that later. "I don't know what to do with this," he said, indicating the old one. It observed the room in general with a sort of subtle, wary smile.

Okara peered over his shoulder at it. "I don't think you should put it back on. It's all tattered."

Komachi looked as well and snickered. "It looks kinda creepy. Why do you have a ghost on your sword anyways?"

"It's not a ghost," the Samurai answered indignantly. "It's a_ Teruterubozu._"

"A 'Sunshine Monk'?" asked Komachi, confused.

Heihachi just looked at them, dumbfounded. "You… don't know what this is?" When both girls shook their heads he muttered, "It must be a regional thing…" to himself, then explained, "If you hang one of these in a window and chant a spell, than you're guaranteed good weather the next day."

"Oh," said Komachi, still not looking like she understood. "So why do you have one on your sword?"

The Samurai shifted uncomfortably and said, "It's a long story," with finality in his voice that meant it was not to be questioned.

Okara was bothered by a very different problem. "Uh… what happens if it rains?"

He turned to her with a scary face and said, "You get to cut its head off," in a comically evil voice that made the three of them laugh.

Shino was standing there listening to all this, and made a snorting noise at that caused him to notice her. "Thank you for bringing these to me," he said with an amount of appreciation she didn't expect.

She looked away from his face and sternly said, "Here," as she held out what was in her other hand.

His eyes widened with delight. "Wha… My hat and goggles too?!" He took them from her and regarded them fondly.

"Oh yeah," said Okara, "I forgot we found those."

Komachi giggled. "We're going to hold a Rice Kami festival on the day you guys stopped the Capitol. Rikichi had this idea for a rice eating contest and the winner would get to wear your hat. They'd be Heihachi, the Rice Loving Samurai!"

"That sounds like fun!" said Heihachi. "But no one loves rice more than me. I'd wind up being Heihachi every time!"

Shino couldn't help but look at him. He was grinning like a loon, and that ridiculous hairdo… It finally struck her just how funny it all was and she couldn't contain herself anymore. She descended into frivolous cackling.

The other three looked at her a little surprised. "Now she laughs," said Okara.

"Sorry," Shino managed to get out. "I can't believe… I was… actually _scared_ to come in here…"

For a moment her laughter was the only sound, but it instantly died when she saw that all the humor had dripped from Heihachi's face. He was frowning with a shrewd sideways stare.

"I don't get it," said Komachi.

Okara looked knowingly from Heihachi to Shino. "Hey Komachi," she said, taking her friend's hand, "I found this wasp nest near the tree fort. Let's go make the boys throw stuff at it."

"Okay…" Komachi allowed herself to be led out the door even though it was obvious she didn't want to.

Once the girls were gone Shino went over and knelt next to the Samurai. She leant uncomfortably close, scrutinizing his widened eyes.

"What are you looking at?" he asked her. He was uncomfortable with this sudden proximity.

She couldn't see what she was looking for. They were not deep wells of sadness and anger, nor were they soulless hollows. They were just eyes… brown and defensive. Satisfied, she moved away and sat with her back to him and her legs dangling off the edge of the raised wooden floor.

"What was that about?"

She wasn't sure. She definitely wasn't afraid anymore, though she was far from satisfied. What did she want? "I want an apology." Shino decided to be frank.

Heihachi was startled, but he didn't need to ask what she meant. "To you or to your father?"

"Both."

"No." His voice wasn't cold, yet it wasn't pleasant either. "I was right. If Kambei were anyone else, Manzo would be dead."

This answer did not surprise Shino, so she didn't need to turn and look at him or to say anything else.

But Heihachi didn't like to leave things like this. He fidgeted and said, "I respect Kambei's decision, so you don't have to be afraid. I won't do anything." She didn't move or answer. "You don't want to talk? Isn't that why you came in here?" Again she did nothing.

"If that's how it's going to be…" He popped the rest of his rice in his mouth and started to unbraid his hair. He wasn't about to give up though. "This wasn't my idea by the way."

Shino turned her head just enough to see what he was doing.

He noted this and went on. "I have a few stalkers and Okara-kun thought this might be a fun way to ward them off."

"Isn't a Samurai supposed to be dignified?" she snapped icily.

She nearly leapt out of her skin when Heihachi started laughing. She turned around and glared at him, but he put up his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry," he almost choked, "but you have no idea how many times I've been lectured on that."

"I can't imagine why," Shino grumbled, her back to him once more.

He was laughing again before he said, "I can. I haven't been concerned with that stuff in a _long_ time."

Shino was silent and unmoving again. She kept her back strait as she heard the Samurai get noisily to his feet, his joints cracking, and shuffle towards her. She said nothing even when a plate was held before her, one lonely rice ball sitting in the middle. She just looked up at him, no emotion on her face.

"You can have that. I'm full." He was smiling… always smiling. Shino was starting to find it aggravating. When she didn't answer he set the plate next to her and carefully stepped into his boots.

It was clear he was leaving, but when he got to the door it was blocked.

"Shichiroji? Where have you been?" he asked.

"In the woods with Kambei and Kirara. I spotted Katsushiro and he doesn't look so good," answered the blond. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, and he looked peeved.

"Did you find him?"

"No," Shichiroji said. "My turn. Where are you going?"

Heihachi's shoulders drooped when he answered. "I need to get washed up. I mean, I don't know how anyone can stand the smell of me."

The taller man relaxed but stayed where he was. "You are a bit of a mess, but Hei-san, you can barely walk."

Heihachi's head joined his shoulders in a cringe. "I'll manage," he said bitterly.

"You're doing it again."

It was a simple and, to Shino, meaningless statement, yet it had a strong affect on the rice lover. He straightened up to his full, meager height, in a posture she recognized, and he spoke in the same voice he used on her that fateful night. "I'm starting to understand why Kambei calls you a wife… you nag like one. Now listen, I've made it through worse without you coddling me and I don't need it from you now."

The blond looked disturbed and hurt, but instead of relenting he straightened to his own full height and towered over Heihachi.

This didn't daunt the man though, and in that authoritative voice he said, "You're not going to stop me. All you're accomplishing is to provoke me, and I'm too tired for this right now, so either let it be or go away."

With that he pushed past Shichiroji and limped away. The blond stayed there and watched, deliberating whether or not to go after him. Eventually he made a noise that sounded like, "kshea," and left in the opposite direction.

Only Shino remained, suffering chills over what she just witnessed. Needless to say her dislike for the small redhead had grown, but she was also slightly amused. His reactions to being 'coddled' gave her an idea… probably a very bad one, but interesting none the less. The Samurai won this round, but she wasn't going to back down. She wasn't a coward like her father and she would fight him with everything she had. Unlucky for him, what she now had was a weapon.

With a vengeance she too got up and took off, leaving the last remaining rice ball forgotten on the floor.


	7. Forward

**OH MY GOD I UPDATED!?!?!**

**Sorry for the delay, but what can I say. Life happened.**

**Anyways, I don't own Samurai 7 or its characters.**

**Hope you enjoy**

Kambei and Kirara approached the graves as quietly as they could, not out of respect for the inhabitants, but out of consideration for the form that lay sprawled on the grass before them. Heihachi spent a lot of his time in this place, so Kambei wasn't surprised that this was where they would find him.

He was on his back and it looked like he had nodded off while praying and simply plopped over. One arm was draped over his face to ward off the sunlight, while the other rested at an angle above his head. Save for the sluggish rise and fall of his chest, he could have been a corpse.

Unless he was dreaming, it was normal for Heihachi to be still in sleep, but his nightmares so often haunted him of late that it was refreshing to see him this peaceful. His friends were being careful not to disturb him from what was probably the first real rest he'd had since returning from the dead.

As they cleared the trees, Kambei noticed there was another person standing watch over the prone figure from a distance.

"Kambei-sama, Kirara," she acknowledged in a quiet voice as they went to her.

"Lady Shino," said Kambei with an amused smile, "I assume you're here to drag Heihachi back to the village again?"

"I was until I found him like that."

He nodded, following her faraway gaze to his comrade. "Your efforts in helping him during his recovery are very admirable considering the amount of enmity you still seem to bear."

Shino turned red at that and shuffled her feet, trying to look innocent. "Enmity? That's… I don't feel anything like that."

Kirara was startled by this change in her friend. "Are you saying you've finally let go of your grudge?"

"It's not a grudge!" Shino snapped, barely managing to keep her voice low. She closed her eyes and sighed, willing herself to calm down. "I don't care enough to hold a grudge."

"Than why-" Kirara didn't manage to get her question out before she was cut off.

"Because the faster he recovers, the faster he's out of our lives."

"Shino!" Kirara's suddenly furious gaze was met by her friend's hard and cold one only briefly before Kambei stepped between them.

"Very well," he said, "Lady Shino, I can not fault you for feeling as you do, I feel confident in telling you that I doubt he will be here much longer, which is why I need to speak with him. If you will excuse us."

Shino looked honestly shocked. So he thought her little nightmare over there would soon be gone. "Of course, Great Samurai," she said as she walked away.

Kambei only watched her for a moment before going over to the sleeping figure.

It was a bright, cloudless day and would have been nice if not for the lack of wind and the fact that it was unusually hot, even for late Spring. A thick haze of moisture hung in the air as though a giant steam bath opened up on the countryside, and in response to this Heihachi left most of his newly mended outfit down in the village. He had both legs of his pants rolled up high so they looked more like shorts. This left his prosthetic in the open for anyone who wished to stare, but either he was growing less self-conscious of it, or it was too hot out to care. The only other thing he had on was the cream colored, sleeveless turtleneck he usually wore under everything else.

Anyone who had dealings with him knew that Heihachi was as difficult to sneak up on as the best of his fellows, even in sleep, and yet as Kambei's shadow fell over him he never tensed or moved for his sword that lie next to him, as expected. In fact he just kept breathing in that painfully slow rhythm of deep slumber. Someone else might have been concerned about this. Kambei just chuckled.

"You can stop that now," he said, "she's gone."

Kirara's brow pursed and she looked at him in puzzlement. She didn't understanding why he would try to speak to someone who was obviously dead to the world, that is, until Heihachi responded with a chuckle of his own.

"So you saw through my 'Secret Art of Feigning Sleep,'" he said as he removed his arm to reveal a mischievous grin. "What gave me away?"

"Nothing, you were flawless," Kambei replied. He took a seat and his expression turned grave. "Except that I haven't once seen you sleep that soundly in the entire month you've been here."

"Don't I know it," said Heihachi, and he did. The drawn, tiredness of his eyes, as well as the strain on his cheerful disposition was still apparent.

He sat up, crossed his legs, and started picking grass out of his hair. His bangs hung in his eyes, but most of his hair was tied back. The villagers were astonished when the Samurai started allowing Komachi and Okara to play with his hair, but their various 'experiments' grew customary over time. This style became their default.

It was comical really, that he could have so much patience with those two troublemakers, have enough left over to deal with the rest of the village children, keep a gaggle of pubescent girls and daughter minded old women off his back, and all with almost no sleep. Yet he was caused so much frustration by one person that he would lay unmoving on a hill until she left him alone.

"Heihachi-dono," said Kambei, "Is lady Shino really so terrible that you would rather play dead than talk to her?"

"Yes," he said with wide eyed conviction. "You've seen what she's like around me. She's driving me insane and she knows it!" He caught Kambei's smirk and smiled back. "Don't get me wrong, Shichiroji hasn't been much better. Did you know he sicked the kids on me?"

"Did he now?" Kambei started to stroke his goatee.

"Yeah, I overheard them talking about their 'mission from Momotaro.' It's why they're all so careful around me." He heaved an exaggerated sigh. "I knew when he stopped bothering me it was too good to be true, but at least he's sincere about it. With her, she just does it because she knows how much it bothers me and nothing I've said or done has made her stop…"

Kirara sat down on her knees before the two Samurai with her eyes closed in guilt. "I'm so sorry. I've tried talking to her, but she won't listen. Please, forgive me."

Heihachi squinted at her with a frown and crossed his arms. "How many times do I have to tell you," he said, "It's not your fault. She's like a child who won't stop poking the dog until it bites her."

"I wouldn't compare you to a dog, Heihachi-dono," said Kambei, "I haven't seen you address her with anything but patience and civility. Perhaps if you let your feelings on the matter be shown, you would have more luck."

A strange, regretful look flashed over Heihachi's face for only a moment before he smiled. "You know, this is the most we've spoken in a long time. I was starting to think you were avoiding me."

The young woman's eyes shifted between the two Samurai. Neither of them was showing and signs of discomfort, but it was clear the change in subject was creating tension. She was sure one of them would apologize. Instead something unspoken passed between them and they relaxed.

Heihachi was the first to speak. "So, what brought this on? Why do you suddenly think I'm going to leave?"

As an answer Kambei looked to the ex-Mikumari. "Um," she said, "that would be my fault, or rather Komachi's."

* * *

The dry creak, a combination of sinew stretching and wood bending, was quiet, quick, and practiced. In the steadying pause that came afterwards, Shino's arms didn't quiver like they had the first time she held the bow. Those hands and arms were strengthened by their years in the rice fields, and now they were as confident and taught as the weapon they wielded.

The feathers of the arrow tickled her fingers as it whisked towards its mark, dead centre of the last target. The twang, the whistle, the 'thock' as it hit – they were good sounds to her ears.

She slowly let out her breath, trying to drown her guilt. When she took up tending to the Samurai everyone accepted it and let her out of her duties without questioning, but he didn't need her right now. She was becoming less and less necessary, and if she kept it up much longer it would stop being noble efforts and start looking like childish antagonization. That meant she should have returned to her work as a farmer, but plucking weeds from a rice paddy long ago ceased to be satisfying.

Something had changed. That night she had been siting by the ruins of her house and seen Katsushiro return with a mass of Nobusari, she had taken up a bow without even thinking. All she knew was that Katsushiro was going to die if the villagers didn't do something, and that night 'the villagers' included her. She was like any other woman around Kanna, had never drawn a weapon in her life.

Every one of her arrows hit its target.

Since then, and more often now, she found herself in this quiet clearing where she could practice her skills with the bow and the sword away from critical eyes. She kept telling herself she was a better shot then the men, which she was, and that if they needed to defend the village again she would be an asset.

She put down the bow, confident that she could hit everything she aimed at, and took up the sword she snuck from the weapons storehouse. Using a blade was an idea she only entertained until recently. She just wanted to protect her home, and never thought she could do that with a sword. Protecting the Village wasn't her reason for holding one now.

She took a wide stance, gripped the hilt in both hands, raised the weapon her over head, and brought it down in a slice that ended a little less than parallel with the ground. She watched Katsushiro practice often enough that she knew every movement, stance, and grip by heart. Still, she was nowhere near his level. Her movements were stiff and shaky, but she was only just beginning. She was determined to get better, which is why she stayed there, swinging the sword in the same movement over and over until her arms ached and she was covered in sweat.

"Sh-Shino?!? What do you think you're doing?"

Shino nearly dropped her sword as she quickly turned around to face her father. He was standing at the edge of the clearing, his mouth open and his eyes wide. She wondered how he managed to follow her there, but it didn't matter. For a moment she was horrified she'd been found out, but she realized it would only change things if she let it. She calmed down, closed her eyes, and sighed. "What does it look like, father?" When he didn't say anything she fixed him with a defiant stare and said, "I'm learning to fight."

Startled by his daughter's fierceness, Manzo staggered back a step. "But why?"

"I'm going to defeat the Samurai who dishonored you and force him to acknowledge his wrongs."

Manzo blinked several times. He got over his fear and was now just confused. "Dishonored? Even I'll admit I dishonored myself."

Her expression grew pained. "Father, he tried to kill you!"

"But he didn't, and that's good enough for me."

"Well not for me. I cannot simply ignore the fear and shame he caused us. You forget, I'm not a coward like you."

"How dare to speak to me that way!" Manzo's eyes were popping again. He was incensed. "I am your father! I am the one who raised you, who provided for you all these years, and you will listen to me. You will put that sword down and quit with this foolishness at once. People are starting to talk, Shino!"

The weapon in her hand trembled, but she did not obey. Her gaze never wavered as she said, "No. I don't care what people say. This is what I must do, and you are not going to stop me."

Strangely enough, the scowl left her father's face, and was replaced by a bitter smile. "So you honestly think could last more than a second against a Samurai? Do you think a Samurai would even take you seriously? You're a woman Shino, and no matter how much you try to deny it, a sword has no use in the hands of a woman."

She felt too hot, like she swallowed hot coals and they had settled in the pit of her stomach. It was known throughout Kanna that Shino had a temper. She had felt this kind of rage before, but never directed at her father. Despite what people thought, he was a good to her. He had always acted in her best interest, and treated her with more respect than most daughters got. He was her family; the only one she had, but in that moment she was so close to raising her weapon and striking him down that it scared her.

She exhaled slowly, sheathed her sword, and tossed it at his feet. Without a word she brushed past him and headed back towards the village. He didn't follow her, and she didn't look back.

Her mind was almost changed right there. She had thought she might have some chance at beating the Samurai knowing that he was the poorest swordsman amongst the Seven, but even the worst would probably be at a level far higher than she could hope to reach. Besides, she thought she had found a weakness she could exploit, but all she knew now was just how frustratingly patient he was. Not once did he rise to her as he did that time with Shichiroji, and it was pissing her off.

Now Kambei thought he was leaving.

She stopped. She was alone on the forest path, and the wind was still. A chill ran up her spine. There was something eerie in the air that reminded her of those few moments just before the first battle for Kanna had begun. It was the feeling of forward motion, and it told her a big change was on its way.

She stared at her hands where the blisters were forming. She didn't even really know what she wanted from the Samurai, and she suddenly realized she would soon lose her chance to get it anyways. She had two paths before her. The first was the path of her father, to always cower beneath those who were stronger, and to always worry about what could not be done. The second was the path of uncertainty, to stand tall and proud even if she was weak, and to know something may be impossible, but reach to for it anyways.

Shino closed her hand. Her choice was easier to make than she thought. "We'll see," she said to the trees and the wind, and to no one at all. "We'll see."


End file.
